by Aimée Thurlo
Diane glanced over at the listings, then pointed to a large ad in the Yellow Pages. “Jake’s Fire Control advertises new and used rifles, shotguns … the works. It’s not too far from here either. Let’s give it a try first.”
They picked two more gun shops in case the first one didn’t pan out, then left the coffee shop. Diane was just moving away from the curb when they got a call over the radio. An alarm had just been tripped at the Animas Sporting Goods store west of their current location.
“That’s the second one on our list,” Lee said as Diane accelerated down the street. It took less than ten minutes for them to reach the store, located beside two other unrelated businesses in a tiny strip mall, a block south of Main Street.
“Damn, talk about a break-in,” Diane muttered, taking in the chaotic scene.
CHAPTER 10
Three police units, emergency lights flashing, had all but surrounded the building. A big yellow Hummer had run over the concrete parking barriers and rammed into the front entrance, taking out the steel door and several dozen cinder blocks.
“You could haul a cannon out of that opening,” Lee commented as Diane parked the unit. A big FPD cop came out of the wrecked store just then, and Lee recognized him immediately. It was Sergeant Braun from the hotel.
The officer noticed Diane and came toward them. “He’s not in the store, ma’am. There’s a broken rifle rack and several smashed cabinets containing pistols and ammunition. A video camera looks like it was operating, so we’ve probably got the perp’s photo. Dispatch said the shop owner is on his way over. He should be able to tell us what’s missing. The civilian who owns the Hummer has already been called.”
Lee, ever watchful, turned around slowly. Several civilians had pulled their vehicles over to the curb and were rubbernecking. There weren’t enough officers on the scene to set up a perimeter, and it would probably be pointless to block off the street.
“Smash and grab, messy but effective,” Lee said. “Was the Hummer hotwired?” Lee asked the sergeant.
Sergeant Braun shook his head. “Owner kept a set of spare keys under the sun visor. Guy has a GPS hidden somewhere on the chassis, so he wasn’t too worried, apparently. Vehicle looks brand-new—or did until it became a battering ram.” The sergeant looked down at Diane. “You want to check out the shop, ma’am?”
“Yes. When the owner arrives, bring him to me, okay?” Diane turned to Lee. “You coming?”
Lee shook his head. “Tanner seems to have the habit of returning to the scene of the crime. I’ll wait outside in case he shows up.”
Sergeant Braun looked at him strangely. “You’re joking.”
Lee smiled, then moved over beside the police unit that was parked closest to the street. From there he could watch the scene and check out any passing vehicles. If Tanner was responsible, he’d know Diane and her Navajo vampire partner would be showing up to check it out.
Diane and the sergeant moved toward the wrecked entrance, and Lee heard Braun call one of the other uniforms over. He motioned toward the gathering of curious civilians and said something Lee couldn’t hear. The officer checked the shotgun he was carrying, then walked down the length of the building, disappearing around the corner.
Within a few minutes, a large, chromed-up pickup with oversize tires roared into the remaining parking slot. An angry-looking man wearing an NRA cap climbed out so fast he almost fell. “Punk bastards. Friggin’ wrecked my shop,” he cursed. The man was short and built like a sumo wrestler.
As the proprietor stepped past the massive vehicle astride the sidewalk of his business, he punched the side of the door. The door wouldn’t dent, but it seemed to rock just a little. It must have hurt, though, because the man flinched despite his bulk. As he looked around to see if anybody had noticed his stupidity, Lee managed to keep a serious expression, giving a sympathetic nod.
Turning back to the street, Lee saw two more vehicles cruise slowly by, drivers and passengers gawking. Lee could see their faces, and even noted that the driver in the second vehicle had an open beer bottle in his hand. Seeing Lee watching him, weapon on his belt, the man lowered the bottle a bit more and continued past the building.
Diane came out about five minutes later and walked in his direction. “He took a .30-06 Remington 700—open sights—no scope, a Browning Hi-Power with an extra magazine, and about a hundred rounds for each weapon. That’s all that’s missing. The owner played the video back for us. It was Tanner. He waved at the camera. Cocky bastard.”
“Well, we knew that already.” Lee, now standing beside one of the police cruisers, turned and watched another vehicle, a battered-looking station wagon, cruise by slowly. The driver was a sleepy-looking blonde in her early thirties, with four excited children pointing and shouting back and forth. They’d have something to talk about at school tomorrow.
“I made a quick call to FPD, and a bulletin is being sent to every agency. I’ve also got my SAC trying to round up more night-vision goggles.” Diane took a quick look around, making certain they couldn’t be overheard. “A vampire operating as a sniper raises the bar almost out of reach for the rest of us. Anyone without a night scope and a guardian angel is a sitting duck.”
“But he’s remained within the community, at least so far. We should be grateful Tanner hasn’t gone to Albuquerque. It would be hell catching him there.”
“I still wonder why he’s sticking around? He’s got to know Albuquerque and the Rio Grande Valley better than the Four Corners. Is it just his thirst for … revenge?”
Lee shrugged. “Gotta be more than that. Perhaps one of the locals will remember him—if he has lived here before. Remember hearing that Tanner was taking days off, and nobody had any idea where he was going? Maybe he came here—it less than a four-hour drive.”
Diane checked the street, still wary after all that had happened already tonight. “I can search for old charge card information on Tanner before he disappeared, targeting those times he was known to be out of town. If we track some of the purchases to this area, particularly Farmington, that will tell us something about where he was going on his days off. It might take a while, though. I’ll have to pull some people away from the Internet or their TVs.”
“Come on, Diane, you enjoy yanking people out of their recliners and yelling ‘FBI.’”
She couldn’t help but laugh as she brought out her cell phone. After a moment, she cursed. “Crap. Battery’s nearly gone. I’ll have to get a backup from the car.”
Lee watched Diane as she walked to the vehicle, appreciating the view from this direction, though he didn’t think of himself as a lecher. Then he thought about the label—obsolete, like himself—and looked away, focusing on a red Mustang as it cruised slowly past the crime scene. The driver had his left hand up to the side of his face, concealing his identity, and that raised Lee’s antenna.
“Tanner! In the red car!” Lee yelled. Tanner moved his hand and brought up a pistol, extending it out the open driver’s window.
Diane flattened to the pavement as shots rang out.
The bullets were meant for Lee, and struck the asphalt where he’d have been if he’d also hit the ground. But Lee had jumped up instead, pulling out his own pistol as he landed atop the police vehicle, then stepped off the other side, behind cover. More shots whined overhead, but Tanner had reacted too slowly to track him effectively.
Lee heard a shotgun blast from behind him somewhere. Braun or one of the other officers was firing back. Lee took a quick look over the hood and saw a pattern of holes just behind the driver’s door. Tanner had ducked instinctively, but rose up again, firing blindly at Lee, ignoring the other cop.
Lee dove back to the pavement as bullets struck the hood right above him. The shotgun roared again, along with another weapon, probably Diane firing her pistol.
Tires squealed, and by the time Lee brought his weapon up, the Mustang was racing away, leaving rubber. Diane rose to one knee, squeezing off another shot, and Lee fired twice.
The rear window of the Mustang shattered.
“Shit. Antique piece of crap!” Lee heard Braun’s voice, and out of the corner of his eye saw the sergeant trying to clear a jammed round from his shotgun.
“After him!” Diane yelled, and nearly beat Lee to their unit. He started the engine and backed out into the street, his heart pumping overtime.
“Make the call!” Diane yelled to Sergeant Braun just as another officer ran out of the wrecked gun shop.
She fastened her shoulder harness by feel as she squinted ahead, trying to track the taillights of the Mustang. “He’s sticking to this street,” she pointed, not taking her eyes off the road.
“Yeah. Can’t miss the missing window. Wonder if one of us hit him?”
“Not hard enough.” She grabbed the radio mike and updated their location and the direction Tanner was heading. When she was finished, she looked over and nodded.
Lee switched on the emergency lights and siren, forcing him to raise his voice to be heard, even by Diane. “I tried for a head shot, but he was really rolling by then, and the plate glass can deflect a bullet, especially at an angle. Wish I’d have had a few armor-piercing rounds in my weapon.”
“Hey, we didn’t know he’d be in a car. Hollow points are better vampire stoppers anyway. At least Braun and I were able to keep him ducking. Let’s just catch up to the bastard,” Diane said.
“Where in the hell did he get a backup vehicle so quickly?” Lee wondered out loud, his eyes constantly checking ahead for vehicles or pedestrians who might stray into his path. “And a fast one at that.”
“You don’t suppose he has a partner now?” she asked.
“I didn’t see anyone inside the car except for him,” Lee pointed out.
“They could have been staying low. Non-vampires tend to do that when the shooting starts.”
“Hell, half vampires do it too,” Lee said. “I’m just glad I decided to jump instead of duck.”
“Yeah, I would too if I had your legs.”
“Ugh. I can’t imagine that, not even for a second. You’ve seen my legs—and I’ve seen yours.”
Diane managed a smile, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached for her cell phone and managed to switch batteries in spite of their high-speed maneuvers.
The Mustang was quick and agile, a good choice for a getaway vehicle—except that it was red and flashy, Lee reminded himself as he took the next corner at the highest speed he could risk. His reflexes were superhuman, but their vehicle wasn’t designed for racing, and slid, barely missing a vehicle parked against the far curb.
“Whoa,” Diane yelled, the g-force whipping her back and forth as Lee maneuvered the vehicle into the center of the street and accelerated. “We’re gaining—slowly. Tanner has quicker reflexes, but not as much experience with pursuit driving.”
“Otherwise he’d eat us for lunch in that Mustang. He seems to know the streets pretty well for an Albuquerque boy. Any chance of getting a roadblock set up?” he asked.
Diane switched to a local tactical frequency on the radio and sent out their current location and direction.
Closing in as they neared a large grocery store and restaurant, Lee could see the Mustang still had the dealer’s sticker, but he couldn’t read the business name. Abruptly the Mustang swerved into the parking lot, skidding and throwing up a cloud of smoke and dust in the dangerous maneuver. The small red car hurtled past the store, then made another ninety-degree turn and disappeared.
Lee cut across the front of the parking lot to intercept the vehicle as it came out from behind the store, but it never arrived. Skillfully he executed a bootlegger’s 180-degree turn and headed behind the store. There was a loading dock, but a glance to the right revealed a narrow gap in the big cinder-block wall that ran parallel to the alley.
Lee pulled cautiously into the alley, then out of the corner of his eye he could see the Mustang hurtling directly at them from the passenger side.
“Hang on!” He stomped on the gas and prayed.
Diane gasped and pressed back into the seat.
Their sedan took a rear glancing blow, throwing the nose of the vehicle to the right as metal and plastic crunched behind them. Lee corrected the wheel and slammed on the brakes at the same time, bringing the vehicle to a screeching halt at the far curb of the next street over. Beyond was a sidewalk, then another six-foot-high block wall.
Putting the vehicle into reverse, Lee swung back out into the lane, then raced down the street in the direction Tanner was heading. By the time he reached the intersection and glanced toward the alley, the Mustang had disappeared.
“He either continued down the alley, or turned left,” Diane said quickly. “Your choice.”
He chose left, on a hunch, thinking Tanner might be circling the area. Two blocks farther, he saw the Mustang parked in another alley on the right, just off the street. The shiny two-door, now accessorized with buckshot holes and matching front and rear shattered glass, looked unoccupied, but they couldn’t take any chances. “Call for backup,” he told Diane, pulling in behind the Mustang to block the exit. The big V-8 in the Mustang was still running, and even at idle the power of the vehicle was barely contained.
“It could be an ambush,” Diane whispered. “Wait for me before you move in.”
Lee nodded. “You’re right.” He stepped out of the driver’s side, keeping the door between him and the Mustang. His Beretta was ready.
Twenty seconds later, Diane was off the radio and out on her side, also armed. “Okay,” she whispered, “I’ll cover you.”
Lee came up to the vehicle slowly, his weapon directed to where he was looking. “Nothing in the backseat. Front either.”
Diane came up, looked inside, then stepped back toward the rear of the vehicle. “Pop the trunk, Lee.”
He reached in and turned off the engine, then pulled the trunk release.
“Nothing but new car smell. Whatever weapons he had went with him.”
Lee realized he was illuminated by their headlights, not that it would make any difference to Tanner. And with a long-range hunting rifle, the vampire could shoot from hundreds of yards and take them down.
“He’s got a rifle now, Lee. We’re sitting—make that standing—ducks.”
CHAPTER 11
Diane moved back toward their vehicle, turning around and trying to see through the darkness. Lee checked the flat roofs. Most of the houses on this street offered handy parapets for a sniper to rest his weapon. “Get in the car and circle the neighborhood. I’ll do a foot search.”
The roar of an engine and flashing red and blue lights heralded the arrival of a Farmington police car. “The officer and I can check the yards. Go ahead and get in,” he said to Diane. “No sense in giving him an extra target.”
“You’re probably his priority now, Lee, but let’s make him choose.” Diane turned her back to him and stepped out to the curb to greet the arriving officer.
“Stubborn woman,” Lee said under his breath, then took another quick three-sixty look at the area. A resident was peeking out from behind the window curtain across the street, and a black cat with one white paw was slinking across a porch two houses down.
Lee didn’t speak cat, so he decided to visit the person who’d been looking out the window. “Police officer. I need to speak with you a moment,” Lee announced, his eyes searching up and down the street as he stepped up to the porch.
“You looking for the man who was driving the red car?” A strong woman’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Yes, I am,” Lee replied. “What did you see?”
The porch light went on, there was a pause, then the door opened a crack. There was a brass security chain across the opening, a good idea in any neighborhood. He could see reddish auburn hair, a brown eye, and enough face and mouth to determine the woman was Anglo or Hispanic and in her early forties. A hand with bright red fingernails held an unbuttoned robe clenched together in the center. Lee could hear music fr
om a TV commercial.
“Want to come in?” the woman asked, then closed the door slightly and unhooked the chain.
“Yes, ma’am, if you don’t mind.” Lee had already considered the possibility that Tanner had taken the woman hostage and was behind the door, ready to blow him away. But the woman, tall and reasonably attractive, didn’t seem nervous at all. More curious—even nosy, perhaps. Every community had a snoop, even back in the thirties when he’d been a teenager. At this hour, a lot of people would be settled in their recliners watching the ten o’clock news or letting the dog out one more time. But there was always a snoopy one.
Lee held out his ID for the woman to view as he stepped in, but her curious eyes were focused on his face. Maybe she’d never invited an Navajo with a gun into her home before.
“You’re a policeman, right? I’m Rosanna Luna.” She reached over to turn off the TV, fiddling as she searched for the right button. Finally she found it.
“I’m Leo Hawk—state police officer, ma’am. What can you tell me about the man who was driving the Mustang-the red car.”
“He isn’t the one who killed that judge, is he?”
“I think so. What did you see outside? Where did he go?” Lee noticed that the woman was barely holding her robe together with one hand while straightening out her rumpled hair with the other. He kept his eyes directed toward her face, wishing she’d spend more energy keeping her garment closed.
“My God, officer. And he was right out in front of my house.” Her mouth fell open, and she stopped primping. Looking down, she saw she was showing too much and hastily started buttoning her robe.
Lee turned away, giving her more privacy and taking the opportunity to glance into the next room—the kitchen. From what he could tell, it was unoccupied. “Did you see which way he went, Ms. Luna?”
“He jumped out of the Mustang, ran over here, and climbed into the other car. Then they took off around the corner to the left. I was thinking of calling the police when you and that woman officer showed up.”